<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Tip of Your Tongue by AeonianSkyLark</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27323110">Tip of Your Tongue</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeonianSkyLark/pseuds/AeonianSkyLark'>AeonianSkyLark</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>35mm: A Musical Exhibition - Oliver &amp; Murphy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Because Sara doesn't have a lot of genuine friends - Freeform, But both girls shine don't worry, Character Study, Charlie is gonna be that "ride or die" type of friend, Even though its about Sara, F/F, Julie kinda gets more screen time in this one, N is for 'No it can't end like this' - Freeform, P.R.O.M. Q.U.E.E.N., Sara Berry Character Study, alright, that's my canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:07:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,111</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27323110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeonianSkyLark/pseuds/AeonianSkyLark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sara Berry is doing perfectly well; she just can’t get the taste of metal out of her mouth.<br/>And Julie just wants to get through high school without everyone looking at her goddamn leg. Well, her lack of one.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sara Berry/Julie Jenkins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tip of Your Tongue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>*3 weeks before prom*</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charlie leaned towards Sara, a sly smile on her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna hear what I just heard?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even if she didn’t, Charlie would tell her anyway. Sara’s known her since kindergarten. Charlie can’t keep a secret for her life, yet everyone ends up telling her everything anyway. Easier for Sara, really, to stay up to date on everybody. She humors her anyway, chuckling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the news? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rumor has it that Julie’s getting nominated for Prom Queen.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She almost spits out her pudding, tasting metal in her mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Charlie squints at her, plopping a chip in her mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>that surprised, though? Girl just lost a leg.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sara scoffs. “So that means she gets to be Prom Queen?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>She didn’t work for it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It means,” Charlie says, stretching the word, “that she’s definitely getting pity votes. From, you know, being in that crash and all. You know it’s wild, the whole thing. I honestly thought-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And at that point, Sara tunes out. Whatever ramble Charlie was bound to loop herself into, Sara had no time for it. Not now. Not when her crown is at stake. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is she really going to lose over some pity points? </span>
  </em>
  <span> She practically had coins in her mouth, at this point. Her fingernails dig into her palm, balled in a fist. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She didn’t earn it</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The bell rings, jolting Sara out of her thoughts. Lunch is over, finally. She’s not hungry anymore. Looking at her tray, she notices that tray’s barely been touched. Hopefully Charlie won’t notice and badger her about it. If she offers her tray, the redhead won’t mind. She’ll be too busy ripping open another chip bag to ask where Sara’s appetite went.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I have another chip bag. Want mine?” She nudges her tray over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you even need to ask?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It works like a charm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything was going so well before Julie suddenly popped up on her radar. And for once, she didn’t have a plan for something like this. Someone like Julie Jenkins.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <span>Prom night: music room</span>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Julie didn’t have a plan for someone like Sara Berry. She knew Berry was popular, prissy, intimidating-- not murderous. At least that’s what Julie could guess- before all the bodies.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>When she noticed Patricia taking the longest nap while people were doing the electric slide. a permanent one, it seems, with her punch spilled over the table. Rachel’s blood was dripping down the stairs. Oh, and Anne’s bludgeoned brains were lying right outside. When she saw Mariana’s marinated remains stuffed in the mascot suit. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Go, Wolves.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The water trail leading to Quiara’s body lying still at the bottom of the pool. Pieces of Eunice were spread around the school. Julie’s pretty sure she found her necklace. Along with her foot. And a hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, this can’t be happening.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Here she was, on prom night, with corpses and screams throughout the school. People had enough sense to stop dancing and start running, chaperones and students alike. Not Julie, though. Never got around to getting her leg fitted for a prosthetic. Forgot her crutches by the table. All she could do was hide in the music closet, and try her best not to tremble so much.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Trying not to shake, trying not to break, and trying not to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>noticed</span>
  </em>
  <span> is all she can do at the moment. The smell of blood is so thick, Julie feels like crying. The clack of heels echo the walls, before getting muffled by the carpet. The footsteps sound even closer and Julie trembles, the slightest breath escaping her in a whimper. Sara noticed anyway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The closet door hadn’t been completely shut. Through the sliver of sight, there was just enough room for the girls to meet each other’s eye. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Damn her poofy dress.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sara widens the door, smearing some blood on the handle. Every fiber of Julie’s being screamed at her to run, but her brain wasn’t getting the memo. Julie can’t stop staring. Can’t move. Can’t breathe. Not while she’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>staring right at Berry</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Poor Julie- </span>
  <em>
    <span>always poor Julie, isn’t it?</span>
  </em>
  <span>- is frozen in place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sara had her eyes on the prize, on the crown, and she's so close to getting it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>There’s just no future for a Princess at prom. </span>
  </em>
  <span>No time to be blind now. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The crown is on the line. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Every fiber of Sara shouted at her to finish it- </span>
  <em>
    <span>finish her</span>
  </em>
  <span>- and yet. No move to finish the job. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sara stood still as she looked down at Julie. With a red finger, she lifts up the shaken girl’s chin. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Look at your Queen.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She looks up, and Sara </span>
  <em>
    <span>smiles</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Down on your knees before the Queen?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Knee, actually.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Her grin only grows wider</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On one knee for me?” There’s a gleam in her eye before she scoffs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Funny”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julie waits, breathless. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Who can breath at a time like this?</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sara still has her finger under her chin, saying, “Vote Sara Berry, won’t you?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Berry stood in front of the closet in one moment and walked away the next. The blade dripped red into the carpet, held by a shaking hand. The classroom door shuts loudly behind her, jolting Julie from her trance. She lets out a breath, winded and broken. Delicately, she touches her chin, bringing back blood on her fingertips. It’s not hers. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It's not hers.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She doesn’t know whose it could be. </span>
  <em>
    <span>How has anyone not called the police yet? </span>
  </em>
  <span>But</span>
  <span>-there might not be anyone left </span>
  <em>
    <span>to</span>
  </em>
  <span> call. Julie’ll do it herself then. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All she needs is a phone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Julie hears Sara’s footsteps recede as a hum fills the hallways, growing louder. A ballad breaks through, loud and manic and devastating. A song about a queen, who held the world in her hands. A queen adored by her people, all bowing down before the crown. A queen who sought to taste devotion in an infinite sense. Tears prickle Julie’s eyes; her chest pangs.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>There’s times when Sara wishes she wasn’t at the top of the food chain. That she wasn’t a shark. Once there’s blood in the water, all she sees is red. As the blood from her hands seep into the bouquet, she finds that the scent of metal and flowers aren’t all that different.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sirens continue to blare in the distance, growing louder, but Sara pays them no mind. That’s the least of her worries. She has music she needs to dance to. The red can be washed off later. Cold silver cradles her head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Finally got the silver.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And so she dances, with her newly bestowed sash and scepter. Sara Berry finally got her crown, just what she wanted. </span>
  <span>Isn’t it? </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Honestly, I just wanted to post on Halloween. Also, if you like Hamilton, you might like the chapter title from that alone. If you see the blurb talking about hearing the 'Ballad of Sara Berry" lyrics wrong, you're a gem.<br/>Also, being a first fic, I have NO idea how to format.<br/>More is likely to be added. I had a blast writing.<br/>Hope you enjoyed liked it!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>